


Green Across the Board

by yashkonu



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Light BDSM, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:56:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yashkonu/pseuds/yashkonu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Fareeha accidentally discovers something she's super into</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green Across the Board

 

It happens in a flash, in the chaos of a firefight. Angela is with her, pinned by hostile fire and cut off from the rest of their squad. Out of rockets, both in her cannon and her suit’s reserves -- even Angela’s pistol is out of commission, disabled by a burst of shrapnel. Her mind is racing, hunting for a way out of what could be certain death, when a readout on the Raptora system’s HUD flashes.

_Concussive Blast Ready_

She hesitates; it might not be enough. The enemy unit is closely grouped and only a spare few had protective headgear, but she knows she’ll only have one shot, if that.

A burst of suppressing fire forces them down further, kicks up a scrap of rubble that scrapes Angela’s cheek. The nanomachines coursing through her blood knit the flesh together almost immediately, but a thin streak of blood remains. Fareeha’s jaw sets.

“I have an idea.”

“I don’t suppose it involves you staying safe?” A quirk of a grin crosses her face, never reaching her eyes. In combat, nothing ever gets that far.

“Do they ever?”

“Not in my experience. I am with you, Fareeha.” The steady noise from Angela’s staff shifts, and Fareeha watches her suit’s energy meters leap to peak levels.

Over the course of her career, Fareeha had performed a great many of what she termed “unconventional tactical maneuvers.” Her colleagues and superiors, apparently, much preferred the term “reckless nonsense that’s going to get you killed one of these days, mark my words.”

With the poor lighting she can't risk her one chance on a reflex shot, but the ceiling is too low for her ascend to her thrusters’ full height without putting a hole in the roof.

Angela gives her a thumbs up, and she commences with her reckless nonsense.

A quick half-boost sends her hurtling toward the ceiling, and with timing precise enough to make a MEKA pilot blush, fires a burst through only the left half of her thrusters. She grits her teeth against the sudden wave of centrifugal force and slams to one knee, upside-down on the rafters. The clustered enemy unit tracks her ascent with wild bursts of fire that fly blessedly wide, and in the space of a breath Fareeha takes her shot.

The shell flies, cutting a faint cyan swath through the half-light. Before it can connect, though, a rattling burst of fire sounds, and a series of blows across the torso knocks Fareeha from her perch. The last thing she sees as the ground rises to meet her is Angela’s face, her eyes shining with worry and fear in a flash of bluish light.

She blinks back to awareness some few minutes later, tries to stand and immediately regrets it. Armor-piercing rounds, judging by the punctures dotting her chest. Something to have the techs look at later. A glow is suffusing her, and Angela watches her with tired eyes.

The feeling of nanomachine healing is difficult to accurately describe, but “intense” covers it succinctly. She gasps desperately, her eyes screwed shut against the rising tide of sensation. Muscle knits together beneath the shredded suit, skin reforming in moments. Angela holds her through it, tugs off her helmet, leans close, and _purrs_.

_“Herrlich, meine schatz.”_

And _that_ sends an entirely different kind of shock through her bones. A blush paints her face, and Angela’s smile takes on an edge of steel.

* * *

Angela loves to make her work for it. It’s one of the joys she can return as much as she receives; to make herself deserving, to make herself pleasing. In that keenly analytical mind of hers, Angela knows _precisely_ how much Fareeha can give, how much she can take.

Crosshatched lines paint her back, and her arms tremble with the strain of holding herself up as Angela’s heel presses down. She’s going to buckle, she knows it, Angela _has_ to know it just as well.

“Five more, darling.”

The pressure between her shoulder blades ramps up and she bites back a groan, tendons standing out against her neck. Five. She can do five, she _will_.

Streaks of pain sear across the small of her back, hot and cold daring her to give. She seals a whimper behind her lips -- Angela said not a word, not a sound.

Four. The next strike is harder, her frame shudders but she holds steady.

Three. Sweat trails down her cheeks, stings her eyes. She wants to, she _wants to_.

Two. She’s sure she’ll never make it, she’s only human, she _can’t_ \--

“Last one, _liebling._ You’re doing so well, so, so well.” Her voice is warm and smooth, and the warmth sinks into Fareeha’s bones.

One. She holds fast; she _has_ to be worthy of that praise.

“ _Wunderbar_ , Fareeha. You can relax, and you can speak.”

There’s nothing to say, but she slumps to the floor with a groan that toes the line between pained and satisfied. Gentle hands turn her over, roll her head into Angela’s lap. “Are you alright, my dear?” She nods, and Angela presses a kiss to her lips. “I suppose it is time for me to be merciful, hm?” Mischief dances in her eyes.

Fareeha starts at the feeling of a hand between her thighs, but swiftly melts into her lover’s embrace when it goes to work.

“You did so well, _meine schatz.”_ Angela’s breath washes warm over her ear, the murmur of her voice reaching to tug at something deep in Fareeha’s heart. “You were perfect, I am _so proud of you._ ”

Fareeha whimpers, bucks her hips into the touch, and Angela kisses her again, deep and slow. Their eyes meet and the pride in her eyes is _everything_. She’s close, she’s so close now. Angela breaks the kiss but stays near, warm air washing over Fareeha’s lips as she murmurs the words like a prayer. “ _Perfect, perfect, perfect. I am proud of you, so proud.”_

Fareeha comes undone, warm and safe and _perfect_.


End file.
